Strange Magic
by skygirl55
Summary: Richard Castle touches an amulet and acquires a...unique...magical power. AU during "Poof! You're Dead" Caskett.
1. Chapter 1

**Strange Magic**

Richard Castle touches an amulet and acquires a...unique...magical power. AU during "Poof! You're Dead" Caskett.

* * *

This fic will have 2 parts. The prompt will be at the bottom of part 1. It was from Reddit if that gives you any indication. Also, its kind of a crack!prompt. Shout out to acertainzest for helping talk me through some of Castle's...calculations. :) Enjoy

* * *

Part One

Richard Castle was falling.

Falling, falling, endlessly plummeting towards earth, only there was no earth, no solid ground. He fell through blackness, his limbs askew and flailing, and his head—god, his head; how did his head hurt this much if he was falling through open air?

He tried to cry out but couldn't. In fact, he wasn't even sure he could draw breath. His throat seized, his tongue felt heavier and heavier in his mouth, until suddenly he heard it—the sharp cut of his name slicing through the blackness.

"Castle!"

He knew the voice; he'd know his partner's voice anywhere. _"Beckett!"_ He tried to swim towards her, to move his arms and legs and propel himself towards the noise, but there wasn't a clear direction. She was nowhere and everywhere.

"Castle? Can you hear me?"

"Beckett!" He attempted to cry out again, but no words came out. Mustering up just a little more effort that time, he was able to grasp at a breath. As the oxygen surged into his lungs his eyes flew open, though he felt instantly blinded from the contrast of the bright room to the black of his dream. Coughing and spluttering, he tried to move, to get up, to calm his breath, but he couldn't—at least, not until he felt warm hands pressing on his shoulders.

"Whoa, Castle, slow down. Breathe. Look at me. C'mon Castle, look at me."

His gaze searched frantically until it landed on brown with flecks of gold; his solid ground. "Beck-" he choked on her name and she hushed him.

"Don't try to speak. Just breathe. Does anyone have a water bottle?"

Anyone? Who was anyone? Weren't he and Beckett alone in this room?

Then, he turned his head, looking away from the detective for the first time so the room came into focus. He wasn't in a void filled with black, but a shop full of many objects. A magic shop, his brain hazily remembered. Drake's Magic Shop, to be specific. And he and Beckett had arrived there after someone—the magician!—died. And then…shit, what had happened after that? How had he ended up on the ground?

"Here, Castle. Drink some of this."

He looked back towards his partner, who had sat on the floor beside his head. She cradled his neck, lifting his head from the ground slightly, as she tipped a bottle of water against his lips. He took a few sips, but then, his senses beginning to return to him, felt silly and gently pushed her arm away. "I'm okay; I'm okay." He insisted, propping himself into a half-seated position with his elbows braced against the floor. He was, indeed, feeling generally more conscious, but his head still felt as though it had been split in half by an axe.

"Are you sure? You went down like you got an electric shock. Do you know what you were touching?"

"I…" He gazed straight ahead and realized he was lying at the foot of a large table with an expanse of objects on top of it. From his position on the floor, he couldn't see them with any sort of detail, so he attempted to stand, but felt a bit dizzy, so he sat hard on his rear.

Kate moved around in front of him, looking directly at his face for a moment, and then frowning. "I think I should call you an ambulance."

He balked immediately. "No Beckett, I'm fine I don't…what's that?" He pointed vaguely in the direction of the spot just above her head where a strange gray ball now floated.

"What's what?"

"You have a bubble over your head."

"A what?"

"A…" He moved his hands around in front of him as though he was cradling a basketball. "A bubble…"

She twisted her lips to the side and stared at him for five seconds before concluding, "Okay, we're getting you an ambulance."

"No, Beckett—wait." While she popped up instantly, it took him a bit longer to clamber to his feet—and even longer to feel steady on them. "I don't need an ambulance. I'm fi—hey." He changed the direction of his comment when he spotted the amulet on a gold chain resting atop the table just a foot from him. It definitely looked familiar—and like something he would have touched.

"Castle?"

"This; I'm pretty sure I touched this." He pointed to the object, but kept his hand a safe distance away, since he didn't think his body could take two shocks in such a short period of time.

"Excuse me!" Kate called out to Eliza, the assistant to the magician and shop owner. "Could you come here please? Can you tell us what this is? The necklace on the gold chain."

Eliza approached, glanced at it for a moment, and then shrugged. "I'm sorry, I don't know; I don't think I've ever seen it before."

Kate hummed, then turned back to her partner. "Are you sure that's what you touched?"

"Pretty sure, but I can't be certain…hey, now everyone has those bubbles." He said as he observed gray dots popping up over Eliza's head in addition to the two uniformed officers that remained in the magic shop.

"Right—ambulance."

"No, no!" he whined and took a step towards his partner. He definitely did not want the cavalry called; he was already moderately embarrassed. Besides, he didn't think he needed to be checked out by a hospital, especially since he was progressively feeling better. "I'm fine, Beckett; I'm just going to get some fresh air."

With as much casualty as he could muster, Castle exited the magic shop and took a few steps down the sidewalk, breathing in the crisp January air. He really was feeling steadier on his feet with each passing minute. His head didn't feel like it had been cracked in half anymore either, though a dull pulsing ache deep in his brain remained.

"Castle?"

He turned back towards the magic shop and watched his partner approach. His eyes were drawn towards the top of her head and he noticed that the gray ball was now more like a gray circular outline that had some strange symbols inside that almost looked like numbers, but they were still too blurry to make out. This was odd because no other part of his vision was blurred, so he stared at them for a few more seconds which, unfortunately, drew Kate's attention.

"Castle? Hey." She waved her hands around above her head to catch his eye. "What are you seeing? What do you mean by bubble? Like…Like I'm wearing an astronaut helmet?"

He shook his head. "No, no. More like…oh, like an indicator in a video game."

She blinked at him. "I don't know what that means. Does everyone have one? Or just me?"

"I…" He gazed around the street briefly, and what he saw was a sea of humans—and their indicator bubbles. "Everyone."

She hummed for a moment, then shook her head briefly. "Okay, I won't call you an ambulance, but I really think I should take you to the hospital to be checked-"

"No, Beckett, really, I… I just have a headache so I'm going to go home, take some aspirin, and lay down."

She hesitated. "You're sure?" When he nodded, she responded with, "Okay, but you call or text me later and let me know how you're feeling, okay?"

Touched by her concern, he offered a smile and a nod. "Sure Beckett. Good luck with Drake's case. Sorry I have to sit this one out for now."

She shook off his concern. "Don't worry about it—just feel better, okay?"

He nodded, and with that made his way towards the nearest subway entrance.

* * *

By the time Castle arrived back at his apartment, he still felt baffled by what had happened to him not quite an hour prior. The good news was that his headache was steadily improving, but weirdly that seemed to correlate with the increasing clarity of the circles he saw above everyone's head—circles he'd dubbed "number bubbles."

Everyone he saw on the subway had a grey circle above their head. As the car made its way downtown, those circles became clearer and clearer until he could safely conclude that each circle had a number inside of it. He couldn't really determine a pattern to the numbers, but he did take note that most peoples were in the several thousand range. He hadn't the slightest clue what that number could mean, but hoped he'd have more clarity after a nap.

After dropping his keys on the small table by the door, he walked through his bedroom and into the bathroom. After using the toilet, he stepped up to the sink to wash his hands and only then noticed that he could see a bubble above his head as well. Unlike all the others, his bubble was encased in an orange circle not a gray one, and the number read 5,780.

Five thousand, seven hundred and eighty; what could that number possibly mean? And what was the significance of the orange color to his number bubble? It stood to reason that since it was his own bubble it would be unique—that certainly kept on the 'video game' theme he'd been working with in his mind—but why orange? Did the color have a meaning? Were there any other colors besides gray and orange? What would those colors mean?

Shaking his head, Castle dug around in one of his bathroom cabinets until he found the extra strength headache medicine. He shook two pills into his palm, tossed them onto his tongue, then leaned over to drink enough water from the tap to swallow. Then, as he walked out of his bathroom, he undid his belt and let his jeans drop to the floor. After shedding his button-down, he fell into bed, shut his eyes, and hoped that when he woke up, he'd have a better idea as to what was going on.

* * *

The following morning, Richard Castle awoke to his 7:30 a.m. alarm and felt quite rested. His head no longer ached, and he felt good; ready to put the bizarre events of the prior day behind him. He sat up, arched his back in a stretch, and then made his way to the bathroom as he normally did.

Just like the afternoon before, Castle was startled at the sight of his own reflection when he went to wash his hands. The orange bubble above his head was still there; it had not been some bizarre electro-shock-induced hallucination. At least not a temporary one.

Before he could curse his misfortune aloud, Castle realized something wasn't the same about the bubble. He studied it for a moment, then realized; the numbers had changed! The prior day, his number bubble ready 5,780, but now it read 5,781.

"Age in days…" he mumbled aloud while distractedly rubbing his hands together beneath the running water. If the number was his age in days, that would certainly explain the increase of one, but…was that right?

Somewhere in the depths of his mind he remembered calculating Storm's age in days for something he was writing. He was _sure_ the number had been above ten thousand, and since he kept Storm's age very close to his own—if anything, Storm was a little younger—the number being a representation of age no longer made any sense.

As it was far too early to do mental math, Castle walked back to his bed, grabbed his phone off its charger, and did some quick division with the calculator app. This told him a person who was 6,780 days old wouldn't have yet lived two decades on earth, so that was most definitely not his age in days. But then…what else explained the increase?

Thinking back to the day before, Castle reviewed what had happened after he returned from the magic shop. He'd napped, woken up, and seen he had received texts from both his mother and daughter saying they had other plans for dinner that night. He'd gone to the kitchen to search for something for himself when Gina turned up on his doorstep. Immediately, he'd been annoyed because he assumed she was interested in continuing their earlier fight and he was not. That's hadn't been the case, though, because she asked him what was wrong claiming he looked pale, and he told her about being shocked in the joke shop (though purposely leaving out the hallucinations he seemed to have acquired). Seeing as their relationship had been more tense than not as of late, Castle was pleasantly surprised with how concerned Gina seemed. She insisted he lay down on the couch while she ordered them takeout for dinner. Then later that night after he insisted that he was fine she'd actually—

_Oh_.

OH.

They had sex—for the first time in a while, as it happened. That was the only singular event from the night prior that he could think of, so that had to be it.

He'd had sex 5,781 times in his life.

Nodding to himself, Castle stroked his hand down over the stubble on his jaw and paced around the space beside his bed. Having sex almost fifty-eight-hundred times was a lot. A lot. Possibly…too much? It sounded great of course, but in the opposite way of his original age-in-days theory, it didn't quite sound right.

Sitting on the edge of his bed, Castle cradled his phone in his hands and prepared to do some more early morning mathematics. First, he calculated how many years in total he'd been sexually active, and it was twenty-five. This number, while accurate, also struck him as quite high. He gazed distantly across the room as he remembered the young man he'd met at the Twelfth Precinct just a few days prior. He was a recent graduate from the police academy and was joking around that now that he was finally twenty-one, he could go out and have a cold one after his shift. Castle now realized he had been having sex far longer than that man was alive, which mean that man could have been his child. After ruminating on that upsetting notion for a minute, the writer pushed it from his mind and turned back to his calculations.

If he had sex fifty-seven hundred times in his life, that meant he would have had to have sex an average of four-and-a-half times a week for the duration of his sexually active years. While the manly side of him wanted desperately to believe that to be fact, his writer's brain remained skeptical. He _definitely_ had not had sex over four times a week back around the time he lost his virginity; not even close. And, true, as he blossomed into adulthood there were plenty of times when he probably had sex more than four or five times in one week, were those enough to balance out his dry spells? Most likely not.

Castle's thoughts bounced through all of his long-term relationships and marriages and he knew that in reality he'd gone without frequent sex a fair bit, particularly during his marriages. He very much doubted he and Meredith were intimate more than a handful of times during Alexis's first year—and during their last year of marriage. And, hell, the same could be said for his last year of marriage with Gina. As much as the testosterone coursing through his veins wanted to believe the more-than-four-times-per-week average, that number just didn't seem plausible unless—

_Unless_.

Oh. Well. Unless the sex still counted if he was the only participant.

"Huh," he said aloud as he thought back though his life while taking all types of sex into consideration. If his teen years were any indication, the fifty-seven hundred number almost sounded a little low but, no that had to be it. It definitely seemed to be the most plausible option.

Castle continued to think about what other possible explanations for the number bubbles he could think of while tugging on his robe and shuffling his way out towards the kitchen.

"Morning Dad."

Castle was so deep in thought that the sound of his daughter's voice was startling. He half-jumped, looked up, and tried to recover with, "Good morning, Alexis," but instead the sound that came out of his mouth was a half-yelp, half-cry when he saw above her head a grey bubble encircling the number fifty-seven.

"Dad? Are you okay?"

"Um…I…uh…" he stammered while internally cursing himself for looking at the number. He tried to look away, but he was fixated and horrorstruck. Fifty-seven. Fifty-seven! That meant his only child, his little girl, had—_good god!_ "Um, yeah, yeah I'm f-fine."

Alexis's eyebrow raised suspiciously. "Are you sure?"

"Definitely," he croaked while feeling the exact opposite. Knowing he needed to busy himself with something distracting, he walked over to the coffee pot and managed to croak, "Aren't, um, aren't you going to be late for school?"

"Not if I leave right now—have a good day, Dad!"

"Y-yeah, y-you…you too."

Once he heard the door slam shut, Castle leaned heavily against the counter and exhaled with a slight moan. There had to be another explanation, didn't there? The number wasn't related to sexual activity at all; that would be ridiculous. No, it had to be…maybe it was the number of times a person sneezed, or had seen a movie, or…or…or…

_Or_ he had just obtained the worst superpower of all time.

Maybe there was a way to turn it off. Yes—yes that was it. If he gained the powers, he could lose them. While normally he'd have welcomed any sort of magical inclination, in this case, he was more than willing to give it back before it became too uncomfortable and upsetting, and definitely before—

"Richard?"

_Fuck_.

Castle scrambled with the coffee pot in hopes of disappearing into his bedroom before his mother entered the kitchen, but it was too late. He could hear her heels clicking across the floor and he knew he had to do everything possible not to look at the floating bubble above her head.

"Mother." He spun around with a grin that was obviously forced and far too chipper. "How are you?"

"Fine…what's going on with you, kiddo?"

"Nothing, nothing. I'm fine I just—shit!" he muttered beneath his breath when he caught sight of the gray bubble with a number just north of eleven thousand. Oh, god, why did he have to look?!

Coffee now forgotten, he gave an awkward wave and then hurried towards his bedroom. "Just in a rush to get to work—I mean Beckett's work, I mean there's a case and I'm—help. Bye."

Moving across his bedroom at a near gallop, Castle stripped off his robe and underwear and ran directly into the shower. He dipped his face under the spray of water, grabbed for a bar of soap, and then began to rub it across his face, focusing on his eyes. It burned and he knew it wouldn't make much of a difference, but in that moment it was the only thing he could think that might make him feel a little bit better.

* * *

"Look people in the eye, Castle; look 'em in the eye." Castle muttered to himself as he rode the elevator up to Beckett's floor later that morning. Normally, this was not something he had an issue with. He felt his people skills were above average and he always loved connecting with others. Seeing as there was no better way to do this than to look them in the eye, he almost considered himself a professional at it. Unfortunately, he also knew there was something more interesting to look at above their heads. Interesting…and horrifying but interesting nonetheless.

Castle tried to maintain his inner mantra as he stepped off the elevator, but of course that was impossible because the first person he saw was his partner. "Beckett," he said in an almost startled way when he saw her number to be 2,967. That meant her number was about one half of his and he wasn't quite sure what to make of that. Should he feel bad? Or simply accept it as a factor of men and women being _very_ different?

"Hey Castle," she said, her voice ringing of genuine concern. "Are you okay? You never texted…"

"Oh, I'm sorry; I forgot," he said honestly. With all his thoughts about the number bubbles and what they might mean, he had completely forgotten about his promise to Beckett.

"It's okay, I just want to make sure you're not…" She lowered her voice and took a step closer to him. "Seeing anything you shouldn't be."

"Ah no; no, I'm all good." Though normally he would not have lied to his partner, he did so only so she didn't worry about him. Considering what had transpired the day before, he did not believe the bubbles he saw were as a result of hitting his head or any other sort of trauma, but instead whatever magical powers that amulet possessed. He was still processing them, and, quite frankly, hoping they would wear off, and thus didn't want to worry or concern his partner. At least, not until he knew more.

She smiled and his heart fluttered. "Good, glad to hear it—now c'mon; I'll catch you up on the case."

Wearing a smile that matched hers, Castle didn't hesitate to follow.

* * *

The Prompt: there was a reddit thread about strange wishes i think and one was "I wish that everyone had a counter over their head that shows how many times they've orgasmed in their life so far"

Part Two will be up soon!

Thanks for reading

(PS - I am still in semi-retirement, this was just the nagging prompt I had to write :) )


	2. Chapter 2

**Part Two**

Richard Castle was falling. Literally falling—tripping over the luggage he had not properly put aside so he wouldn't fall over it in the unfamiliar hotel room space. As it was, he'd forgotten to put it aside the night before, and now, in the low morning light, he was falling. Grunting and cursing, the writer managed to catch himself on the doorframe of the bathroom, so that he only went down to one knee, and not flat on his face. With a huff of breath, he gave the suitcase a little kick, so it slid further out of the way then continued into the bathroom.

Returning to bed a few minutes later, Castle caught sight of the clock and grumbled. It was only 5:10. Normally, that would have been egregious time to feel as awake as he did except for the fact that he was currently on the West Coast; his body thought it was just after eight a.m. Pushing out a long breath, Castle lay on his back, closed his eyes, and willed his body to relax. He lay as still as he could, trying to think of nothing, but for some odd reason his mind drifted towards the reflection of himself he'd just seen in the mirror. It didn't focus on the darker circles under his eyes or the stubble on his chin, but the orange bubble above his head.

Four months had passed since the universe bestowed that very strange gift upon him. While he'd given up hope that whatever magical affects the amulet had would eventually ware off, for the most part Castle had learned to ignore the number bubbles he saw above everyone's head; it was better for his sanity that way.

Over the course of that time, he had learned several things about the bubbles. For instance, it seemed everyone's bubble defaulted to a grayscale; the lighter the gray, the more recently their number had increased. Oppositely, the longer they'd gone without an increase, the bubble would be closer to black (which he mostly only noticed on the elderly—and that one unfortunately gentleman loitering in the subway with only legs, not arms.) His bubble was always orange, and anyone whose bubbles he had contributed to turned green, which he'd noticed on Gina that very first night and on Meredith when she's stopped by to pick up Alexis for lunch the month before.

Beyond that, he didn't like to pay too much attention to them simply because the fact that he could see those numbers at all was, well, creepy.

After trying to doze for nearly another hour, Castle gave up and decided he'd just get an early start on the day. Besides he didn't know how early Beckett would want to get started and he didn't want to hold her up, particularly since they were only in Los Angeles because of the case involving her now-deceased former partner. He was there supporting her and not for the purpose of lounging around their hotel suite—as fun as that had been the night before, particularly with that _moment_ they'd had.

Dipping his face under the warm spray of the shower, Castle briefly considered turning the knob a bit more towards the "cold" side—particularly when the image of Kate's steady gaze passed into his mind's eye. God, she was incredible—and he'd more or less told her exactly that, only saving himself at the very end by throwing in the joke about her being hot. Everything he said was true, though; she continually blew him away, particularly that week as he'd gotten to see a rawer side of her than he'd never seen before.

Castle always loved to learn more about her through the eyes of a case, but this one was difficult for him, as he was trying not to be jealous of the reverence she had for Royce. True, most of that seemed in the past, though if he recalled the last time Royce popped up on their case she'd also been rather emotional. More than anything, he hoped that one day she would feel that way about him as her partner.

No—no it was more than that. He didn't want to be just the partner that Royce had been to her. Kate's relationship with Royce seemed more of a student-teacher type sprinkled with a little bit of a schoolgirl crush. That's not what he wanted with her. He wanted them on equal ground so that their relationship—the one he dreamed they could have one day—would be a true partnership. He wanted them to be coworkers, friends, lovers, and everything in between. For one fleeting moment last night as the gaze in her eyes seared into his he thought they might achieve it, but like always she'd walked away, and though he'd hope she'd come back, she never did. But that was okay, if she wasn't ready. He'd wait—hell, he'd been waiting—but she was worth it.

* * *

Twenty-five minutes later, showered and freshly shaved, Castle stood in front of a room service cart pouring himself a cup of a rich, dark roast. He breathed in the aroma and almost whimpered at the scent; there really was nothing better than good coffee. With his cup in hand, he snagged the pastry included with the room service order and walked over to sit on the couch. He'd only been sitting a few minutes when some of the jam from the Danish spilled onto his thumb and Castle realized a napkin would probably be beneficial to him. He took a quick sip of coffee, which frankly was still a little too hot, and hurried over to the cart. Just as he plucked up one of the pristine white cloth napkins, he heard the door to Beckett's room open.

"Oohh is there already coffee?"

"Yep. I—oh!" Castle began coughing so violently that the pressed the napkin over his mouth and turned away from her, so she didn't see him spluttering. His instinct to gasp at the sight of her had been his determent and some of the hot liquid remaining in his mouth had escaped on its way to his esophagus and was trying to penetrate his trachea. Now almost doubling over, he began to sweat from both embarrassment and exertion.

"Castle? Are you okay?"

He could hear her approaching and scurried away as best he could while choking. He was afraid to get too close to her and once again see the thing that had shocked him, which, coincidentally, was the thing he'd spent the prior four months trying not to look at. God, why had he looked!?

"I'm…fine. I'm fine." He rasped out a few second later, sounding anything but.

The wise detective didn't believe him, of course, and instead grabbed one of the water bottles off the cart, twisted off the cap, and handed it to him. He nodded graciously to her, took a few small sips, and then felt recovered enough to straighten up and clear his throat. "Sorry; swallowed wrong."

"No kidding. Thanks for ordering the coffee, by the way. It's…what?"

"What?" he echoed, slightly startled.

She gazed at him curiously. "You're looking at me weird."

"No, I'm not." He responded quickly but—shit!—was he? He was desperately trying to look at her face and not at the number above her head that had not only rolled over from 2,999 to 3,000 overnight, but was now very, very green. Assuming he hadn't slept-walked into her bedroom the night before (which he was confident he had not) that certainly answered his long-standing wonderment of just how involved in the activity he had to be to change a woman's number from gray to green. He briefly wondered just how many other women's numbers had turned green that way but was interrupted by his partner's scolding tone.

"Yes, Castle. You're looking at me weird; stop it. What's going on with you this morning? Did you sleep poorly?"

"N-no. It's fine. I'm fine. How are you?"

She tilted her head to the side and momentarily narrowed her gaze. Then, shaking her head, she went over to pour herself some coffee. "I'm fine, but I don't want things to be weird."

"It's not weird." _Except it totally is!_ He responded inside his brain. Not _weird_-weird just…intriguing. Interesting. Fascinating. Mind-blowing. The prior evening, she must have been thinking about him and only him while she—

"Castle!"

"What?!"

She threw up the hand not holding the coffee mug and proclaimed, "What is going on? Whatever it is, just say it if it's going to stop this weird staring."

"I… can't."

"Why not?"

"Because…" he hesitated for a moment while thinking of a reasonable response instead of the truthful one: he was afraid she might shoot him. "It's…this trip is about you, not me. I don't want to hijack our time here while we're looking for Royce's killers."

She sipped the coffee and sat down on the couch. "That's very nice of you Castle, but I'd also like my partner to be clear-headed, so if you want to get something off your chest…"

He made a noise somewhere in between a groan and a squeak and then sat down on the couch cushion furthest from her. "It's just…this thing has been happening ever since a few months ago in that magic shop."

Her eyes flared wide and she put her mug down so aggressively that some coffee sloshed out. "God, Castle—that amulet did make you sick, didn't it? Was it a shock? Did it damage your heart? Or you're-"

"No, no." He waved his hand to dismiss all her guesses. "It's nothing that serious. It's… well, the thing of it is…for some reason, and I don't know why or how, but for some reason, I can see these bubbles that-"

"You said you stopped seeing the bubbles!"

He winced and sheepishly admitted, "I lied." He watched anger flash across her eyes and quickly added, "But only because I didn't want you to worry about me!"

"Hallucinations are worrisome, Castle."

"They're not…they're not hallucinations."

Her gaze narrowed. "You can see something that other people cannot; that's the definition of a hallucination, Castle."

"Not…not entirely. See the thing that I can see…the bubbles…they're personal."

She arched a dubious eyebrow. "Personal? In what way?"

He huffed out a breath and briefly shut his eyes, knowing he just had to walk straight into her rage like it was a bed of coals he was trying to cross. "The bubbles have numbers inside them…numbers that represent how many times someone has, ah, orgasmed in their lifetime."

She blinked at him. Then blinked again. Then slowly moved her hands so that they rested atop her thighs as she asked quietly, "What?"

He dropped his chin to his chest when he realized she just used one of her tones from the interrogation room. It was the "I don't know if this suspect is utterly insane or about to confess, so I will tread lightly" tone. Grumbling, he leaned forward and clasped his hands in front of him pleadingly. "I know I sound crazy, but I'm not. And." He took in a deep breath. "I can prove it."

"You can?"

"Yes, I can. The reason I choked on my coffee just now, is because when I looked at you this morning your number was actually-"

"Castle!" Kate pushed herself up from the couch and walked around to the other side of the coffee table, putting several feet of distance between them. When she spun back around, he could tell her ears were beginning to turn slightly pink.

"I'm sorry, but it's true. Last night I notice your-"

"No. Stop." She held up her hands in front of her. "That is a grotesque violation of my privacy!"

"I agree. It's a violation of everyone's privacy, but I didn't ask for this. It just happened because of that stupid amulet I touched. It couldn't have given me a cool power like invisibility," he added with a mutter.

If a year earlier, someone would have told him that he would have acquired a magical power and been mad about it, Castle would have outright refused to believe such a soothsayer. Then again, he never imagined acquiring a power so specifically invasive as this one. For the most part, seeing the numbers of those on the street didn't fluster him much, at least not now, four months in, but the closer the person was to him, the more bothered he was by it.

Although, in this particular instance, he was less upset and more intrigued simply for the fact that it proved something he'd always wondered: just how much did Beckett care for him? Yes, they flirted, and had more than a few moments when he thought their chemistry was spiking off the charts. Yet, for the most part, she didn't let her thoughts or feelings known. Now, there was no question about whether or not she found him attractive, but he still wondered how deep her feelings ran and hoped that in time he'd be able to find out.

"So…so…you just know everyone's numbers all the time?" she asked as she began to pace back and forth in the small area.

He nodded sheepishly. "I try not to look—really. After the initial novelty and horror wore off, I really don't pay attention to them anymore. It just so happened that your number-"

"No! I don't want to know." She brought her arms across her chest to hug her body.

Feeling guilty at her obvious discomfort the writer offered, "I'll also tell you mine in the interest of fairness."

"No, I don't want to know that; and I don't want you to know mine either."

"Trust me, if I could turn it off, I would. I don't need to see yours, or Esposito's or Ryan's and I definitely don't want to see my daughter's."

A rather pitiful laugh escaped Kate's lips and for the first time that morning she wore a slight smile. Feeling miserable, Castle dipped his head, but he also knew he earned a little teasing. "Oh, no…Castle…"

"Yeah." He huffed, scrubbing his hands over his face. "It's not great."

"I guess you can see your mother's too."

Feeling his stomach flip, Castle reached for the water bottle again and took a gulp. "I'd rather not discuss it."

Kate laughed again and returned to the couch beside him. "Gosh, Castle…why did this happen?"

"I have no idea, truly, but if I could mute it, I definitely-"

"Oh!" Kate commented with the ringing of her cellphone interrupted them. He nodded towards her, indicating she should answer the phone, then he turned back to his coffee. It was once again time to focus on Royce's case, though he very much doubted their present conversation was over.

* * *

Castle felt himself pulled from sleep by something bumping into his bed. Only, it wasn't actually a bed, it was an airplane seat that was bumped into by a flight attendant's service cart. He grumbled himself awake and opened his eyes to see Beckett balancing two coffee cups on her tray table. She gazed in his direction and gave him a soft smile. "Morning. Sleep okay?"

He yawned and stretched his arms up over his head. Sleeping on a red eye from LA to New York in economy class could not be considered great, but he supposed "okay" classified. "Not bad. You?"

She gave a little shrug. "No…too much thinking to do."

He hummed and thanked her for the coffee she'd procured for him. One sip told him that it was of the extra low airport quality, which, shockingly, was even worse than the Twelfth Precinct's standard swill, but it was better than no coffee. Taking another sip, he tried to hide a grimace, then turned back to his partner. "I can only imagine how hard this is for you." They had found the man responsible for Royce's death and brought him justice, but that wouldn't bring Kate's former partner back; nothing could do that.

She shook her head gently and sighed. "It's not just about Royce it's… us."

Castle felt his face flush at the mention of the subject normally forbidden from being discussed. "Us?" Was this conversation really about to happen? On an airplane twenty-thousand feet above the ground where neither of them could escape if it went awry?

She nodded, then wrung her hands tightly together, obviously struggling with what to say next. Intrigued, Castle leaned a bit closer to her, but said nothing. She needed to be the one to break the taboo on the subject and he couldn't force her into it.

After almost a full minute she confessed quietly, "I opened the door, Castle."

His brow furrowed immediately, having no idea if she referred to a physical or metaphorical door. "What door?"

She rotated her body in her seat so she could face him more directly. "Two nights ago, in the hotel room. We were on the couch talking, then I went to my room and I… I opened the door again. If…if you had still been by the couch, I don't know what would have happened."

His eyes drifting momentarily towards the green bubble over her head, Castle figured he had a pretty good idea of what might have happened but…god, were they ready for that yet? Yes, he wanted her, but there were other factors at play. "I was sitting there for a few moments, but-"

"While I was gathering up the nerve." She interjected in a rather irritated tone.

His train of thought derailed, he blinked and questioned, "The nerve?"

She nodded. "To tell you that I have feelings for you and that I…well, I'm not good with feelings. Romantic feelings. I'm not good at opening up to people in that way but…" She paused and fumbled with something in her lap. Castle looked down and spotted the folded sheet of paper she'd be carrying around with her; the note from Royce. He couldn't help but wonder if something in Royce's final words was nudging Kate towards opening up. If it was, he definitely owed that man a thank you.

"The truth is," Kate continued, "this weekend has shown me that I'd really like to change that."

Castle gazed at her for a moment and saw nothing but sincerity but then, remembering his original though, he felt slightly confused. "But you're…you're still dating Josh, aren't you?"

An embarrassed expression crossed her face. "Technically, but…it's been over for a while. He's just been the…safer option."

Feeling a bit singed, Castle echoed, "Safer?"

"Yeah." Her gaze intensified as she confessed, "Because there's no way I could fall in love with him."

"O-oh…" Castle stammered, shocked into near silence by her use of the "L" word. Her statement clearly implied that she couldn't fall in love with Josh, but that she could with him and that was…well, incredible in several different ways.

He'd first realized that he was falling in love with—well, pretty much already in love with—her during their ruse of a kiss several months earlier. He'd already broken up with Gina at that point, knowing their relationship was over for good and also knowing the exact person his heart desired next. Since then he'd been mostly waiting patiently for Kate open her eyes and hopefully realize that what they had was true, and real, and something that should be explored rather than avoided. She was cautious, but he was patient. He'd honestly expected to wait even longer, so a revelation like this was quite a relief. Though he still felt sad that it had to come at the expense of Royce's life.

"I'm going to need some time." Kate continued a minute later.

"Oh—oh yes. Of course." He smiled, reached out and brushed his fingertips against her left forearm. "Of course, Kate; all the time you need."

She smiled, too, and patted the back of his hand with hers. "I just needed you to know because…" She let out a long breath and shook her head, obviously a bit annoyed. "If there really is some ridiculous number floating above my head that increases every time… well, I'd like you to know that I'm not with anyone else. But also, never look at it again."

He couldn't help but chuckle at the threat she tacked on to the end of her statement. "I…I'll try not to—just like I try not to look at anyone's, but… in the interest of honesty, there's something you should know."

She grumbled. "Don't tell me it gives you the number and date of last activity, too."

He twisted his lips to the side. "Thankfully, no, but you might have preferred that to what I'm about to tell you."

Kate looked wary. "Okay…"

"The numbers…they're kind of color coded."

"Kind of?"

He nodded. "Yeah, everyone's is grayish, mine is orange, and, um, the women who I've been with have green numbers."

"Okay…" she said slowly, making it clear she wasn't sure why he was telling her this.

"Your number is green."

She leaned away, obviously shocked. "How? We haven't had sex."

"Right…" He hesitated. Then lowered his voice much further, "But, is it possible that last night you were thinking specifically about me when-"

"Oh god. Jesus." She gasped and covered her face. "Oh. No… Castle…"

He cringed at the pitiful way she said his name. "Sorry Kate, but it's what I see. And now I imagine you know for sure that I'm telling the truth about the bubbles." He very much doubted she'd actually confirm it aloud, but her body language was enough to convey that to him. Considering he'd never see her this embarrassed before, he didn't want to call her out on it any further, though he was enjoying it very much deep down inside.

After a moment Kate parted her fingers just enough to peek at him and he couldn't help but chuckle. Trying to make her feel better he said, "Don't be embarrassed Kate; we all do it."

"But!" She whined and then flopped her hands back down to her lap. "I'd never want anyone to know anything that…that…specific!"

"But it's very flattering—for me, of course. Hey!" He whined when she backhandedly smacked his arm.

"Stop. This is mortifying."

"Kate." He sighed and placed his hand over her forearm again. "It's fine, really. But I promise to never bring it up again."

"Why did you bring it up now?" she groaned.

"I wanted to be honest. I didn't want you to find out later that I actually knew and then be mad at me then."

She mumbled something under her breath and then huffed out. "Fine."

"Don't be embarrassed." He said softly. Then, feeling a bit bold, he leaned over and kissed the side of her head. Thankfully, this did seem to relax her expression a little bit, though she still seemed a bit stiff when she reached for her coffee cup.

She took a long sip, then gazed over at him from beneath her curtain of hair. Their eyes met for a moment then they both burst out laughing. Putting her coffee cup back on the tray she said, "Oh, Castle—why did this happen to you?"

He shook his head and reached for his own caffeine fix. "I don't know, but I imagine I'll be asking that for many years to come…"

"Have you ever told anyone else about this?"

He shook his head. "No…I don't want everyone to think I'm some sort of pervert."

"Well…"

"Beckett!"

She laughed. "It is kind of pervy…. Though I admit I am now wondering what the most ridiculous number you've ever seen is."

He clicked his tongue. "And you called me a perv."

She shrugged. "It's my detective's curiosity."

"Mmhm." He hummed skeptically. Then after a beat he asked, "You really want to know?" She nodded so he rotated his body to face her so he could speak as quietly as possible. "Well, for the most part, people's numbers are fairly consistent and proportional to their age, but there was this one time I saw a guy on the subway whose number was over fifteen thousand—and he looked way younger than me!"

When her brow wrinkled with obvious confusion he added, "Oh, right: context. Your number just flipped to three thousand and mine is around six."

She blinked and shook her head saying, "Wow, so much to process… so the guy was in his thirties and his number was fifteen thousand? But mine is only three?"

"Correct."

"Geez—how does anyone have that much time?!"

"Right?!" Castle laughed.

Beckett's face turned serious for a moment and she commented, "Your number is double mine."

"To be fair: I'm also almost a decade older."

She hummed and nodded. "Does that fit the pattern? I mean, are women's numbers generally lower the men's in the same age range?"

"Yes, generally, but that makes sense if you think about it. Most guys are probably in the thousands by the time they hit eighteen. Sorry Beckett." He chuckled when her face twisted into a grimace. "But as you know the truth isn't always pretty."

"I know, but I also generally don't like to visualize it."

He smiled. "Fair enough. At least you aren't forced to…like me."

She shook her head and then reached over to give his hand a little squeeze. "This really is the strangest curse. And of course it would happen to you."

"Beckett!" He balked immediately at her use of the "c" word, which he outright refused to entertain. "I am not cursed. It's a…passive magical power."

She arched one eyebrow in that way that made his heart flutter. "Oh so you're magic now?"

He put on his suave Richard-Castle-smirk, and confirmed, "I am, in many ways. Soon you'll find out just how many." As he wiggled his eyebrows at her he visualized the moment when he would help increase number bubble by one—and earn that green color honestly; it sent tingles all the way down to his toes.

Kate smiled back, and though she gave him one of her "Castle is being ridiculous" looks, she did sigh out, "You know? I'm kind of looking forward to it."

He settled back in his seat and nodded with agreement. "Me too, Beckett; me too."

* * *

**A/N** \- thank you all so much for reading & reviewing this ficlet. I'm so glad you enjoyed it; i had a lot of fun writing it :)

happy holidays!


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